


the courtship of red jenny

by coarseCorsair



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 23:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19072774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coarseCorsair/pseuds/coarseCorsair
Summary: “...roof cookie?” she asked, pulling a cookie out of her knapsack. Even from a glance Josephine could tell that it’d been in there for at least a week.“Scusi?”Josephine is overworked. Sera tries to find a solution.





	the courtship of red jenny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChocoChipBiscuit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/gifts).



The candle on Josephine’s desk had been lit for so long that it was now a stub. At the moment she was trying to figure out the best way to solve a land dispute between two minor Nevarran nobles without causing a diplomatic incident. Sometimes Josephine wondered if life would be simpler without the nobility. Sure, she’d lose the few holdings that her family had left, but it’d be worth it for a good night’s sleep. She sighed and wrote her signature at the bottom of the parchment before quickly sealing it shut with a wax stamp, a motion she’d memorized so well she could do it with her eyes closed.

Josephine took a look at the pile of unread letters. Dear Maker, she was in sore need of an assistant. Surely an organization like the Inquisition could afford one? It didn’t matter. She grabbed the letter that was at the top of the pile, unfolding it carefully. The texture was...off, coarse against the brush of her fingers. The contents of the letter were even stranger, if one could even call it a letter. There was a crude drawing of what Josephine assumed was supposed to be a penis, surrounded by...bees? Why bees? At least that made the culprit obvious. 

Sera.

* * *

The local tavern was bustling with life, even in the dead of the night. It was lit up so bright that one could probably spot it from miles away. Maryden was performing that night, as she often did, accompanied by the off-key singing of the tavern regulars and the clanking of mugs. The chatter between the patrons filled in the gaps between her songs, ensuring that there wasn’t a single quiet moment. Sera was fiddling with one of her arrows upstairs, content to stay in her own little corner of the tavern. 

The music ground to a halt when Josephine, with a crumpled piece of paper in her hand, entered the tavern. The Ambassador wasn’t exactly known for fraternizing with the rank and file of the Inquisition, so this came as somewhat of a shock. Her face didn’t betray any particular emotion, but her stance and walk suggested that she was just a tiny bit peeved. She went up to Sera’s room only to find her leaning against the doorframe, picking at her ear with her pinky finger.

“Sera.”

“Josie.”

“Do you know what this is?” Josephine asked, pointing to the piece of paper in her hand, the tone of her voice akin to that of a teacher scolding an unruly student.

“Lemme see…,” Sera said, leaning in to get a closer look. “Looks like a pecker to me.”

Josephine stood in silence, arms now crossed, clearly unsatisfied with her answer.

“The bees’re a nice touch, though!” Sera added.

“I found this in my correspondence...I don’t suppose you planted this, no?”

“You got me, you got me!” she said, clapping excitedly with a big, bright smile on her face. “Good job.”

“I do hope you understand that you are a member of the Inquisition and that you cannot just...meddle with official documents!”

“Afraid I can and afraid I will. Besides, someone had to help you take the edge off.”

“This is the opposite of that!”

Shit, maybe her elaborate plan to make Josephine stop taking everything so bloody seriously had backfired. Sera needed to salvage this somehow, climb her way out of the crater-sized hole she had dug for herself.

“...roof cookie?” she asked, pulling a cookie out of her knapsack. Even from a glance Josephine could tell that it’d been in there for at least a week.

“Scusi?”

“Y’know, ‘s cookies you eat on a roof, pretty self-explanatory innit? C’mon, I’ll show you the way.”

Josephine sighed. Might as well humor her, since she certainly wasn't going to get any work done in this state. She followed Sera to the roof. Sera sat down, gesturing to Josephine to sit down next to her, which she did. Sera offered her the cookie once again, which Josephine refused. 

“So,” Sera spoke up, taking a huge bite out of her cookie, “you know you've been holed up there for a really long time, right? Even ol’ Inky was starting to get all worried about you.”

“Surely you must know how important my duties are, no? If I stop for just a moment too long I risk putting this entire organization in jeopardy.”

“I know, I know. All our jobs would be easier without all the arls, banns, ducs and kings trying to kill each other.”

“Don’t forget the Empress.”

“Can’t forget the Empress!”

“Do you know what sorts of letters I get from Orlais? It's actually astonishing how petty the internal politics are! One time I received a sternly-worded letter from a comte, merely for looking at him the wrong way at a ball in Halamshiral.”

“Honestly, I still think the wigs are worse. Have you seen the size of those things? Clearly compensating for something.”

They both laughed. Josephine's laugh was more of a subdued chuckle, whereas Sera's was unrestrained and more akin to a snort than anything else.

“So, what would you propose?”

“Apart from abolishing the nobility and putting power and land into the hands of the landless peasants and the working people of the cities, you mean? ...I suppose you could hire a few assistants.”

“That would be a good idea, yes…”

Sera held up a finger. “But you’ve got to pay them a fair wage. Else you’re gonna get several arrows to the arse.”

Josephine shot her an amused look. “Noted.”

“Proper off time too.”

“Should I fetch my quill and start writing?” she asked mockingly, the faintest hint of a smile forming on her lips.

Sera smiled back. “If you want to, yeah.”

* * *

 

Over time these rooftop conversations became a habit and something that both of them looked forward to. They would spend hours there, when their schedules allowed it, of course, talking about a great manner of things, from politics and court gossip to the goings-on at Skyhold. Josephine would mention a problem she had been having with a particularly annoying noble and Sera would find a solution (one that usually involved arrows). Sera, on the other hand, would point out a problem that the Jennies had been dealing with and Josephine would find a solution of her own (one that usually didn’t involve arrows). Eventually they’d managed to establish a well organized network of Red Jennies, with several branches going as far as to win important structural reforms for dozens, if not hundreds, of villages. From that cooperation grew a bond that was as strong as it was unlikely.

The rookery that Leliana had turned into her base of operations was almost completely pitch black, with only a scant few torches scattered about to provide some semblance of light. Leliana’s features were masked in shadow as she sat at her desk, one hand busy writing a letter, the other scratching one of her many nugs behind the ear. The only other companions she had were her messenger birds, which were nested in the balcony. She kept writing, only briefly stopping upon hearing the clacking of expensive slippers against wood.

“Yes, Josie?” she asked, not even bothering to look up, still concentrated on the letter in front of her.

“Greetings, Leliana. I was wondering if you could…”

“Someone causing you trouble? Do I need to send in an agent?”

“What? No! Nothing like that. It’s a more delicate matter,” she said, lowering her voice.

“Yes?”

“You know Sera, correct?”

“I am familiar with her,” she said, her tone of voice remaining neutral, as if she wasn’t keeping tabs on most (if not all) of the Inquisition personnel.

“So you would know that she’s very, how shall I say, particular? And I was hoping to ask you for advice regarding things of an...intimate nature.”

Josephine with...Sera? That wasn’t something Leliana had ever actually considered, and she had contingency plans in case her previous contingency plans went awry. It was going to take her a while to get adjusted to this development.

“You want me to give you advice on how to court Sera?” she said, tilting her head up.

“Perhaps,” Josephine replied, looking away from Leliana.

“I’m not sure if I can help with that. With Brosca and I, there was no big romantic gesture or anything of the sort.” For her and her love, it was the little things: the glances exchanged, the food shared, the stories they’d tell each other. “We grew closer until it felt as if nothing could tear us apart.” Leliana sighed. She told herself that they’d find each other again one day, her wish slowly turning to a prayer, but by now she’d started to doubt that would ever happen. Should she keep deluding herself or swallow that bitter pill? She didn’t know.

Josephine walked up to Leliana’s desk, slowly and carefully, before gently taking her hand, gloved fingers brushing against her bare palm. “It’s alright. I know this is difficult for you. Perhaps you need a brief respite from all this?”

“There is a bottle of wine I’ve been saving…”

“That sounds perfect.”

* * *

 

The Hissing Wastes were all sand, sand, and more sand, Sera thought as she crouched down to pluck one of her arrows from the fresh corpse of a Venatori agent. Well, that wasn’t true, there were also the ruins, which also failed to capture Sera’s interest. Who cared about what a bunch of dead dwarves did several lifetimes ago? Definitely not her, and definitely not anyone else with common sense. She couldn’t wait to get back to Skyhold, where there was food and drinks and song and especially Josephine. Unfortunately the trek back there would take a while, so for now she kept herself busy by killing more Venatori and attempting to figure out the best way to keep sand out of her breeches.

“Say…” Sera said, poking her head up at Blackwall, who was right across from her, wiping his sword clean of blood, seemingly ignoring everything else around him. “Mind if I ask you something, Blackwall?”

“Yes?”

“You ever, like, spend a lot of time around someone, just talkin’ and stuff? Like, you get along really well but you’re not sure how to go from there?”

Blackwall sheathed his sword before clearing his throat. “Actually…” He scratched his beard and Sera couldn’t tell whether it was due to him trying to think of a proper answer or just because of a nasty itch he was having. “There was this girl, back when I was a young boy.”

“Ooh, go on!” Details about Blackwall’s personal life were rather sparse, so Sera cherished the moments when he opened up, even if it was about minor details like these.

“We would talk after going to the local Chantry, sometimes I’d steal a couple apples for her from the local lord, sometimes we’d both sneak away at night to lie down in the hay and look at the stars.”

“...lie down in the hay?”

“No, not like that,” he said, his cheeks now a bright fiery red.

“I kid, I kid! C’mon, continue!”

“Right, where I was I? Anyway, I never saw her again after I enlisted.”

“...What? No heartfelt goodbyes, nothing?” she asked, making an exaggerated frown that would probably do wonders at convincing a five-year-old.

“Nothing of the sort, I’m afraid.”

“You’re terrible at telling stories, you know that, right?”

“That’s why they keep me around,” Varric chipped in, after maintaining an uncharacteristic silence for the past five minutes or so.

* * *

 

Cassandra was hacking away at a training dummy in the Skyhold courtyard, as she usually did at this time of day, when she wasn’t tucked away in a corner reading her literature, anyway. Her bare muscles glistened with sweat, no longer restrained by her heavy Seeker armor. Once she’d finished her training regimen for the day she took a long sip from her jug, drinking so quickly that the water ran down her chest and abs. She wiped herself dry before running her hand through her hair, turning her head.

“Leliana said that you wanted to see me?”

Josephine had been quietly admiring the view up until now, making sure not to disturb her. “That is correct.”

“You need advice regarding matters of the heart?”

Josephine giggled. Cassandra had always had the tendency of being a bit...melodramatic? It was very charming and made her seem like a folk hero, willing to risk her life to protect the downtrodden. Or perhaps instead she was the protagonist of a romance, moments away from sweeping her lover off their feet? “Yes, it's about that.”

“I cannot say that I am an expert, but...I do have a few suggestions.”

“Such as?” She may have seemed flippant, but Josephine always took Cassandra's advice seriously, whether it related to political matters or, in this case, her affections towards Sera.

“Have you considered composing a poem in her honor?”

“I’m not sure she would appreciate that. Besides, diplomacy is my forte, not...poetry.”

“Candlelit dinner in Val Royeaux?”

“Oh no no, she would loathe that. Trust me.”

Cassandra furrowed her brow and chewed her bottom lip so hard she nearly drew blood.

“It’s quite alright, Cassandra,” Josephine said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She had figured out the problem: Cassandra was thinking of how she would be courted, not Sera. She’d have to find her own unique solution to this problem, one that didn’t involve grand romantic gestures. She’d need something that suited Sera’s particular quirks.

* * *

 

“So, what you’re saying is, you want  _ me  _ to give you advice on how to propose to Ambassador Montilyet?” Dorian asked, putting the book that he’d been enraptured in just a few moments ago (a history of Orlais that spanned from its foundation to the present day) back in its appropriate space on the shelves. “Me?” he repeated for emphasis while vaguely gesturing towards his entire body.

“...Yes?” Sera said, tilting her head to one side like a confused puppy.

“I don't know how to tell you this, but I have no experience with…that.”

“Right, fair point.”

Dorian sighed and sat down, massaging his temples as if his head was about to explode. Giving advice wasn't something he was keen on anyways, and his own romantic life was fraught with difficulties. Why’d she go to him for help? Did she simply enjoy his company that much? “Honestly, I have a hard time picturing you two together.”

Sera took a seat in the chair right across from his, laying her head down on one of the armrests, staring straight at the ceiling. “I mean, before I met you I had a hard time picturing a mage from Tevinter who wasn’t a mustache-twirling villain.”

“I take it I have to work on the latter part? Should I start wearing all black?”

“It’d be a start! Seriously though, Josie’s great. I mean…” She sighed. How would one even begin to describe her? The first thing that came to mind was her smile - warm, radiant, natural. And her freckles! Sera would kiss every single one if she could. She had the personality to match, too - always willing to listen to people, no matter whether they had a crown on their head or what sort of clothes they wore. 

“So many thoughts that you haven't even the faintest idea of how to express them, yes?” Dorian replied, breaking the silence that had just begun to linger over them. “I know that feeling well.”

“Pretty much, ye-” 

“Message from Ambassador Montilyet,” an Inquisition scout popped in, their sudden appearance so startling that Sera fell out of her chair and directly onto her face. “She, uh...wanted to meet you in the garden...” they continued, before slowly backing away, as if they didn’t want to be associated with what was currently happening.

Sera got up on her feet, brushing herself off. 

“Well then.”

* * *

The Skyhold garden wasn’t Sera’s favorite meeting place, but something made it strikingly beautiful today. The smells of various flowers from near and far, sweet and subtle, filled her nostrils, the tree leaves were that distinct shade of yellow that marked the end of summer, the idle chatter of the Chantry sisters oddly pleasant to the ears. Hidden away in the far-left corner, sitting on a bench with her legs neatly crossed, was Josephine. Was there a reason for her being this secretive?

Sera walked over to the bench, taking a seat right next to Josephine.

“So, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes. I was thinking of inviting you to a little...how shall we say, excursion?”

“What, like a diplomatic mission? You know I’m no good at the whole ‘negotiating without socking the other person in the jaw’ thing!”

“No no no! Nothing of the sort,” she replied, flustered. “Honestly, it’s far more frivolous than that.”

“Oh?”

“So, I was thinking of preparing a little surprise for the Inquisitor. And since I’m not very good at...that sort of thing, I was thinking of asking you for help?”

“Oh! ‘course I’ll help out! Whatcha thinking of? Custard pie to the face? Make it sound like they farted?”

“Actually...why don’t we discuss this somewhere else? Somewhere more private, perhaps?” she suggested, her hand now resting atop Sera’s palm.”

“Ohhhh...well of course, Madame Montilyet,” Sera said, taking Josephine’s hand, giving it a brief, chaste kiss. “Shall we?”

Josephine smiled, answering with a kiss on Sera’s lips, just short enough to leave her wanting more. “I think we shall,” she answered, squeezing Sera’s hand tightly, letting her lead the way.


End file.
